


when the doors close

by Anonymous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15105218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Through her lashes, Sarah looks up at Nekola and twirls a strand of hair on a finger. Michele watches her and wishes the elevator could explode with the force of his hatred.





	when the doors close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sacheland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacheland/gifts).



Through her lashes, Sarah looks up at Nekola and twirls a strand of hair on a finger. Michele watches her and wishes the elevator could explode with the force of his hatred.

Nekola smiles, kind of lopsided. Winks. “How about we meet up for a drink at the bar?”

Does he have no respect? Certainly, Sarah would never—

“That would be nice,” she says, red lips stretched in a smile, white teeth flashing.

Does she have no respect for Mickey? No respect for _herself_?

Nekola reaches out to touch her shoulder and Michele sees red. “No, she can’t go!” He pushes him away, two hards on the front of Nekola's chest. Nekola doesn’t expect it; he loses his balance, stumbles against the wall. The elevator shakes.

“Whoa, there,” Nekola says with his hands raised in front of him, palms out, looking at Mickey like Mickey’s the one who's out of line. The only reason Mickey doesn’t jump him is the elevator pings and the doors slide open.

Sarah is the first one to walk out, hands crossed on her chest, chin upturned, mouth in a line. Mickey follows her and doesn’t look back.

Jauntily, Nekola follows them. “I’m in ten-ten if you manage to shake him and you wanna hook up!” He waves and turns down the opposite corridor.

“Sarah doesn’t _wanna hook up_ ,” Michele barks out in his direction.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here!” she shouts. Her arm is in the air, her hair is flying every which way. “You don’t own me! I can sleep with whoever I want to!” She’s Italian, passionate, just like him.

“Sarah, can’t you see he doesn’t respect you,” Mickey placates as she swipes her card and the door lock whirrs.

“And doesn’t it make you mad!” She steps into their room. “That I can spread my legs like a whore for whoever I want! Have my cunt full of dick whenever I want, and there’s nothing you can do!”

No! Michele’s entire being screams. No, no, no! He pushes her against the wall and pins her with his weight. Her breasts are soft against his chest.

She tilts her face up; her legs part easily for his thigh. “Sarah…” he gasps out and they’re kissing, wild and passionate like they both are. Her hands go for his t-shirt, his for the clasp of her bra. He bites her lips, knows that it’s _his_ face getting all messed up with her lipstick. But the hurt in his chest stays.

“Why are you so cruel to me, Sarah,” he says as he pulls her bra off. “You know I can’t defend myself in public, you know there’s nothing I can say—” It hurts, but she presses her tits to Michelle's mouth and rubs herself against his leg, moans as he bites on the hickey he left in the morning.

“This is why,” she says as he falls to his knees, as one of her legs go over his shoulder and his tongue sinks in her cunt.

 


End file.
